


but if you hurt what's mine

by sabinelagrande



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Claiming, Consent Play, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Fear Play, Humiliation, M/M, Minor Greg Davies/Rhod Gilbert, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Ownership, Sadism, Voyeurism, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22539745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: If someone owns you, it's probably best to tell them about it. This skip is stepped, with consequences.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne, Rhod Gilbert/Alex Horne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105





	but if you hurt what's mine

It should be stated, right off the bat, that Greg didn't do anything wrong.

The door to Alex's dressing room was unlocked, so he let himself in. Nothing wrong with that. Sometimes Alex wears headphones and can't be reached by knocking. If he's changing, he'll have locked the door. Greg is doing a perfectly reasonable thing in a perfectly reasonable way.

So he walks in, and he stops.

After a few moments, he has the presence of mind to shut the door behind him; it's unlikely that anyone in the hallway saw anything, because Greg is big enough to block out most of a doorway. That is a very good thing, because everyone in the hallway definitely does not need to see what is happening in Alex's dressing room.

There's Rhod and Alex; Greg is seeing them in profile, which is either the worst or the best way to see them. Rhod has his pants on the floor, and Alex is kneeling in front of him, Rhod's cock disappearing into his mouth. It's not accurate to say that Alex is sucking Rhod off; Rhod is fucking Alex's face.

"Good boy," Rhod is saying. "That's a good cocksucker, just take it for me."

It strikes Greg that Rhod really doesn't sound angry or mean. It's more like he's comforting Alex, soothing him.

"Do you like that?" Rhod says, and Alex moans loudly enough that Greg hears it from across the room. "That's it, little slut. Make me come."

Rhod's head tips back, and something about the line of his neck is appealing, the way his fingers look clutching at Alex's short hair. It's not confusing Greg that it's hot because it's two men, Greg being known to swing that way; it's confusing him because it's Rhod and Alex, two people he genuinely thought he wasn't attracted to. It hurts his head when he tries to process it, so he sort of just stands there and watches, not even sure why he's not interrupting. They certainly haven't noticed him at all, which is kind of impressive.

"Just like that," Rhod says, and he holds Alex's head with both hands, moving it back and forth, his cock all the way down Alex's throat. Alex makes a choking noise, clutching at Rhod's legs. "None of that. You can take it, you know you can."

It really isn't much time before Rhod groans, holding Alex's head against him, Alex's nose pressed into his hair. His fingers are tight on Alex's scalp, but then they go slack, his body relaxing as he comes down Alex's throat.

Rhod pulls out, and Alex gasps for air. "There you are," Rhod says, a thumb stroking Alex's cheekbone. "Wasn't so bad, was it? You'll take whatever I say you can." He pets Alex's hair. "What a good boy for me."

"Well," Greg says, and Rhod and Alex both snap their heads toward him.

"Shit!" Rhod exclaims, and in his hurry to cover himself up, he trips on his own pants and falls over.

Greg, god help him, bursts out laughing. It's a little hysterical, but that was the best piece of slapstick he's seen in a while, intentional or not.

Rhod manages to get to his feet and do up his jeans. Alex doesn't; he's just kneeling there like he's waiting. He's still wearing his suit for Christ's sake, like they just walked back here and then- whatever this is.

"I don't care what you do in your free time, but I'm begging you, both of you, _please_ lock the door," Greg says, because it's the most immediate thing to deal with. "Everyone in this building has a camera phone and some of them don't think we pay them well enough."

Rhod smacks Alex in the back of the head without even hesitating. "I told you to lock the door."

"Sorry, sir," Alex says. "I thought I had."

"I'm sorry," Greg says. "May I possibly ask, respectfully: what the fuck?"

"Run along and let me talk to Greg, alright?" Rhod says, helping Alex up.

"Yes, sir," Alex says, and he vacates the premises, Rhod slapping him on the ass as he goes.

"I have so many questions and I don't think I want them answered," Greg says.

"Sorry," Rhod says, sitting down on the couch. "I see the clips and I get riled up again."

"Again?" Greg says. His eyes widen with realization, though it must not be true, it can't. "Have you and Alex been doing this all season?"

"Yeah, well," Rhod says, scratching the back of his neck. "Pretty much, yeah, from a couple of tasks in. After filming, kind of thing."

Greg sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It was after Excite Alex, wasn't it." He'd had been all for it, then he'd seen what happened.

Rhod shrugs sheepishly.

"I'm really sorry I didn't ask you in advance," Rhod says. "Alex said you didn't mind."

Greg frowns. "What's my opinion got to do with anything?"

Rhod looks at him like he doesn't understand the question. "I'm sorry if I made you angry," he says slowly. "All I know is what Alex said. I should have made sure he was telling the truth."

"About what?" Greg says, feeling increasingly frustrated. 

"He said you didn't mind sharing," Rhod says. "I'd never get in the middle of the two of you, but-"

"What?!" Greg says.

"Ah, fuck," Rhod says, his shoulders slumping. "I've gone and fucked it now."

"Alex and I are not together," Greg says. "There is no two of us. This whole thing is a game. It stops at the studio door. I don't control what he does, because we are not an item."

"Oh," Rhod says.

There is a pause.

"Does Alex know that?" Rhod says.

Greg is taken aback by that question; if Alex thinks this is something else and is acting under that assumption that Greg knows, it makes Greg a monster or Alex genuinely pathetic, and he doesn't like either of those options.

"I am still deeply confused," Greg says. "You're both married to perfectly lovely women, but I suppose that's your own responsibility."

Rhod waves him off. "They know. Sometimes Rachel facetimes in."

That thought makes Greg's brain want to snap in half, so he moves on. "What do you do with Alex?" he asks, out of a curiosity he would like to think is purely morbid.

"Ah," Rhod says, going still. "If you're not with him, maybe I shouldn't tell you."

"Look, if you want to respect his privacy, that's fine," Greg says, "but I have asked you this more than once about other sexual exploits, and you have told me."

"I don't like calling them exploits," Rhod says, making a face. "Paints me in a bad light."

"Conquests?" Greg offers.

"Yeah, that's much better," Rhod says.

"Please?" Greg says, though Rhod is the last person he wants to plead with.

"You know, the usual," Rhod says, shrugging.

"I have absolutely no idea what the usual is," Greg says. "Pretend I'm an idiot."

"Not hard," Rhod says, but he grins when Greg sticks two fingers up at him. "Usually by the time it happens, we're both dying for it, so I just fuck him. Some of the stuff you make us do is hotter than it should be."

"Two things," Greg says. "One, any task on the show can be accomplished without anyone doing anything untoward. You're the one who makes it sexual."

Rhod considers this, nodding. "That's a fair cop."

"Two, the idea that I make you do any of it is a fiction," Greg says. "It's Alex's show. Alex writes the tasks. Sometimes I do mean things to him in the studio, but it's a game."

"Well it's all a game, innit?" Rhod says, throwing up a hand. "If I did the things I've done to Alex without his permission, I'd be in jail, and sometimes it certainly looks like I forced him."

"What else do you do to him?" Greg asks, because he can't just not ask now.

"Well, y'know," Rhod says, crossing his arms and sitting back. "Slap him around a bit. Tie him up and lightly torture him. Choke him." Seeing Greg's face, he quickly adds, "Not enough to make him pass out, just a little choking. But a lot of it is mental stuff." He looks really uncomfortable for a minute, enough so that Greg almost winces. "There's something I should probably tell you. You're not gonna like it."

"Go ahead," Greg says, resigned to his fate.

"Alex let me believe this whole time that you were involved," Rhod says defensively. "So anything that I did based on that, I did because I genuinely thought it was okay."

"I'm really not gonna like it," Greg says, sighing.

"Sometimes I told him you were proud of him," Rhod says. "He was doing a good job and you taught him well, kind of a thing. But sometimes." He takes a breath, looking like he's going to have to force his next words out. "I acted like I was stealing him away. Violating your property. I was toying with your things to prove I could, and neither of you could stop me."

"Jesus Christ, Rhod," Greg says, horrified but almost impressed.

"Look, you said yourself it's a game," Rhod protests. "I always put him back together afterwards. It's just a mindfuck, and both of us got off on it."

"All of this is more than I needed to know, but at the same time, I really needed to know it," Greg muses.

"Here's how it is, alright?" Rhod says. "You and him figure all this out and come back to me with an answer. I'm walking away until it's sorted. I'll only make it worse."

"That's incredibly self-aware of you," Greg says.

"Yeah," Rhod says.

He gets up, and then Greg is just sitting in Alex's dressing room, wondering what the fuck just happened.

The problem is, the problem with all of this, is that they haven't wrapped the series, so Greg, and Alex, and Rhod, all have to get through rehashing more of this.

Onscreen, it is nothing at all to pretend it's not happening. Greg is too into the role of Taskmaster anyway, and what's going on between Alex and Rhod has gotten so sexually charged that it's come back around the bend and just looks fucking weird as shit. Presumably Alex and Rhod fucked after all of these clips happened, but Greg doesn't catch them together again.

Except that he kind of does. He catches them looking at each other when the cameras are off, sly glances that Greg knows he's not supposed to see. The term is eyefucking, as Greg understands it, and he is not supposed to know that Alex and Rhod are doing a lot of it. It almost makes Greg feel bad he broke them up, because certainly neither of them are getting off with him.

The point of all of this, the crux of the matter, is that _Greg has nothing to do with it_.

Greg never fucked Alex, not once, not a day in his life. They've never been in a relationship. They have a weird thing they do on a TV show and sometimes in interviews, but Greg thought that was the end of it. This is fake. End of story.

So it is ridiculous, the pinch of jealousy he feels every time Alex and Rhod glance at each other. This is not supposed to be affecting him at all. But now he looks at Rhod looking at Alex, and it's not like Greg wants to hurt Rhod, and it's not even like he would really keep them apart if one of them pressed the issue, but there's something in him, some need to _take_ , to _claim_ , to prove that Alex really does belong to him.

It is fucking preposterous, but Greg can't stop thinking about it. It's making him meaner on the show, but everybody seems to like that.

They've almost wrapped on series seven when Greg can't handle it anymore. "We have to talk," he says to Alex, grabbing him by the bicep as he goes to leave for his dressing room.

"Yeah, I suppose we do," Alex says. He seems subdued, not his usual self, but Greg isn't feeling quite his usual self either.

Greg steers him to his dressing room, because going into Alex's has gotten a bit weird for him. "Why did you tell Rhod we were involved?" Greg asks, when the door is shut and locked.

"Rhod already knew we were," Alex says. "I didn't have to tell him anything."

"You have to stop that," Greg snaps. "We are not involved. We are not a thing. I don't know what you've been telling people, but it stops now."

"Sorry," Alex says, and Greg can hear how he bites back the "sir" at the end.

"Alex, what the fuck happened?" Greg says gently.

"I thought you knew what was going on," Alex says. "I thought you were saying and doing all those things to me because you meant it." He swallows. "I thought you wanted me."

"Fuck," Greg says, rubbing his face with one hand.

"I meant it," Alex says. "Well, most of it. Some of it was for show. We are trying to make television." He doesn't crumple and he doesn't droop; he drops into that completely emotionless expression he's surprisingly good at. "You didn't mean any of it, did you."

Greg opens his mouth to answer and doesn't get anywhere. The cruelest possible thing he could say right now is that he didn't mean anything by it; it's also the most sensible thing. They can cut this off here with everyone on the same page. Maybe Alex will be heartbroken, and maybe Greg will get fired, but it would be nice and clean, an even break, a reset.

He's just afraid, at this point, that it would be an abject lie, and he can't imagine doing that to Alex.

"I meant most of it," Greg admits. "I get off on it, but I'm not as much of a monster as I pretend to be."

"You're not," Alex says.

"But you have to ask someone if they want to be a thing," Greg says. "I claim to own you, alright, sure, but I'm saying it for an audience. You need to ask me if it's what I really want in private before you start acting like it is. You don't get to make that decision for me."

Alex runs his hand through his hair. "I think I got carried away." He hesitates. "Do you want me?"

Greg rolls his eyes. "Don't fucking say it like that. You make it sound like this is a tortured romance."

The corner of Alex's mouth ticks up, like he's trying not to smile.

"Come on, just say what you're going to," Greg says.

"Wouldn't it be?" Alex says.

Greg snorts, the tension easing. "You asshole."

He bends down, because it seems like the only thing to do; he cups his hands around Alex's face and kisses him. They've done it before, but this is a proper one, a statement of intent. Alex's arms go around his waist, and it feels nice, something secure about it.

"I am absolutely not going to let you suck me off in my dressing room," Greg says.

"That's probably for the best," Alex says. "But perhaps if you just wanted to talk."

"Now there's an idea," Greg says, but he kisses Alex again.

\--

The next time Greg walks in on Rhod and Alex, it is completely intentional.

They're at Rhod's house, the door left unlocked so Greg can slip in. Rhod is expecting him and Alex isn't; he's been texting Rhod to coordinate the scene. It's not quite night outside, so Greg navigates the house without turning any lights on, trying as hard not to make a sound as he can when he's just not a natural at sneaking.

The door to the guest room is cracked, and Greg can hear noises, the kind you might expect, Rhod's low, rough voice and the sound of skin-on-skin. He thinks about slamming the door open, but he lets it creak open ominously instead. He has to duck his head to go through it, but it gives him the sense of emerging from the dark that he really enjoys.

Alex is on top of Rhod, riding him facing out; there's a ball gag in his mouth, and his hands are secured behind him. Rhod's hands are behind his head, making Alex do all the work, which can't be easy with his hands bound. Across Alex's forehead, in black letters, the word SLUT is written; cleverly, he has it written backwards, so if Alex looks in a mirror, he reads it right way round- like, perhaps, the mirror at the foot of the bed. Alex has to watch himself be treated like this, watch himself participate in his own humiliation.

Alex takes whatever he gets and Greg is, at the end of the day, doing this for fun, but Rhod is an actual, full-blown sadist. Rhod hasn't known this for long, but he's been happier since he leaned into it whole-heartedly.

Rhod spots Greg first, Alex being too distracted, and gives him a wink of recognition. Greg lets it go on a little longer, just to watch the way Alex's body works, his desperate movements. Rhod just grins and lets it happen, because he is also an exhibitionist.

"What do you think you're doing?" Greg shouts, startling Alex.

"Pretty obvious," Rhod says, and he doesn't move an inch, keeps rolling his hips up into Alex's. Alex has frozen, caught out, and Rhod slaps his thigh. "Nobody said you could stop."

Greg stalks over, undoing the gag and throwing it across the room.

"Hey, that's my good gag," Rhod says.

"Oh, you're going to try that on me when I catch you with your hands on my things?" Greg says.

"Not my hands," Rhod says, holding them up and wiggling his fingers.

Greg grabs Alex by the jaw; it must hurt, with the treatment he's just gotten from the gag. "What happened?" Greg demands.

Alex swallows, and Greg can see he's been crying. "Sorry, sir, I-"

"I need you to think very clearly about how you want to answer this question," Greg says. "Did Rhod force you to do this, or did you climb into his lap and start riding him like the whore you are?"

"I know the answer," Rhod says, with an evil look on his face. Greg doesn't actually know it; Rhod said it was hotter as a surprise, and the way the anticipation has built suggests he was right.

"He made me," Alex mutters.

Rhod slaps his thigh again. "Speak up, boy."

"I couldn't stop him," Alex says, and he looks both distraught and so turned on that he's still rocking his hips. "He f-forced me to do it."

"I did, a bit," Rhod says.

"You dirty fucker," Greg says, and he manhandles Alex off of him.

"I was using that," Rhod protests.

"If you'd just asked me nicely, I might have shared," Greg says. "Go and play with your own toys."

"Yeah, but yours are better than mine," Rhod says. "Anyway, he rolled over easy as anything."

"What did he tell you to make you do this?" Greg asks, shaking Alex by the back of the neck.

"He pushed me onto my knees and said he'd send you pictures if I didn't behave," Alex says weakly.

That's a pretty good one; Rhod's pretty blunt, but not usually that blunt, and Greg can just see Alex, already off balance and scared. Alex likes being scared, but Greg can't scare him quite like Rhod does. Alex thinks that, ultimately, Greg will pick him back up again, because he is Greg's boy; that does not apply to Rhod.

"This is the consideration you give me?" Greg says to Rhod, grabbing Alex by the shoulders and pulling Alex to him possessively. "First you take my property, then you treat it like rubbish?"

"I wouldn't do it if he didn't love it," Rhod says.

"That might be true, but it's not the point," Greg says. He bars Alex's chest with one big arm. "This is mine. You disrespect it, you disrespect me. You can have your fantasy about having him, but he's mine."

"That's now how it looks to me," Rhod says. "Looks like you don't keep a close enough eye on your things. Imagine if I wanted to do something he didn't like."

"You need a reminder," Greg says to Alex, bending him over the bed. "And you need a point proven to you," he tells Rhod, pointing a finger at him.

"Oh, by all means," Rhod says.

Greg actually has to put two pillows under Alex's hips to make up for the height difference, but Rhod wordlessly tosses them to him when he gestures. Greg's hidden a bottle of lube in his trousers, and he takes it out before he unzips and pushes his clothing down. Alex is already wet and open from Rhod's cock, though Greg's is thicker, so he just slicks himself up and pushes inside, hard enough that Alex rocks forward.

Alex cries out, pressing his cheek to the bed, and Greg puts one hand on his head and the other on his back, holding him down as he fucks in hard. "Nobody can fuck you like this," Greg says. "Nobody can fill you up like I can. Is that right?"

"Yes, sir," Alex says in a small voice.

Greg looks over, and Rhod is openly stroking his cock, watching the two of them.

"Cut that out," Greg says.

"Like to see you try and make me," Rhod says, and sometimes Greg gets the sense that he actually would; thought for another day.

"What sort of lies did he tell you?" Greg asks Alex.

Alex takes a shaky breath. "He said you wouldn't take me back after he ruined me, so he'd get to keep me." That's commendably cruel; Alex must have hated that.

"Too bad for him that he was wrong," Greg says. "No amount of that tiny prick inside you makes you his."

"That's just mean," Rhod says.

"And did you believe him?" Greg demands. Alex doesn't answer; he chokes out a sob instead. Alex very rarely cries in bed, though he seems to really like it, and Greg can't help but stroke his hair, caught by a wave of affection.

"No," Alex says brokenly. "No, sir. I just wanted you to come rescue me."

"And I came, didn't I?" Greg says, gentler. "Why did I come?"

"Because I'm yours," Alex says.

"Correct," Greg says. He turns over to Rhod. "You hear that, you complete dick?"

"Leave me alone," Rhod says breathlessly, working his cock fast, and Greg realizes he can see all three of them in the mirror, the whole tableau. "I'm busy."

Alex is panting heavily now; he's trying to work back against Greg's cock, but he can't budge Greg. "You lie there and you take it," Greg snaps. "This is me staking my claim. It doesn't matter whether you like it or not."

"Yes, sir," Alex says, in the breathy voice that says he really likes it very much.

"Fuck," Rhod is saying under his breath. "Ah, fuck."

"Are you enjoying this?" Greg says. "Maybe you just needed to see how it's really done. You can make all the threats you want, but no amount of you _violating_ my boy makes him yours."

Rhod groans, finishing on his chest, because Greg either understands nothing or too much of how Rhod is wired. Greg and Rhod aren't fucking, just friends with a weird relationship, but that line is getting steadily erased; it actually felt pretty satisfying to get him off, leave him panting on the bed.

He turns his attention back to Alex; he's never stopped this whole time, and Alex is falling to pieces under him. His breath is rough and shaky, and he's managed to get enough leverage to rut against the pillows. He won't last, almost to the point where Greg needs to stop or he won't be able to control whether he comes or not. For once, Greg doesn't want him to hold back; he's having a rough night, and he's earned a little release.

Greg bends down over him, pressing Alex into the bed. "You're mine," he says harshly. "No one can ever take you away. If anybody tries, I'll rip them apart."

"Sir," Alex pants. "I- I'm going to-"

"Then do it," Greg says, pounding into him faster. "And you remember who controls when you do."

Alex groans loudly, and Greg can feel him coming. He keeps fucking, doesn't let up, but he kisses the back of Alex's neck, Alex going boneless beneath him. He doesn't stop, taking his pleasure from Alex's body, until he comes, buried all the way inside of him, his fingers digging into Alex's waist.

He has to stay there for a long moment, just getting himself back together. He pushes himself up on his hands, looking up at the rest of the room, which is only just coming back into existence for him. Rhod is wiping himself off with a corner of the duvet, which is at best unsanitary, but it's his duvet, so he can do what he likes. He sits up, getting off the bed while trying to move it as little as possible. Things will go in a weird direction if Rhod stays, so he waves at Greg and slinks out. Later he'll give Alex a cuddle and tell him he didn't mean it until it sticks, but not yet.

Alex is insensate against the bed, and Greg picks out the knots in the rope around his wrists, unwinding it and dropping it to the floor. He's not sure if Alex could even stand up on his own, much less walk, so he puts an arm behind Alex's knees and lifts him, carrying him bridal style and laying him out with his head on the pillow. 

Greg lays down and gathers Alex into his arms; Alex isn't small, but Greg has a way of making people feel that way. It used to make him self-conscious, but by now he knows that the right kind of people like it. Alex likes it. People Alex's size never get to be the small one, and it has been explained to Greg that it feels very nice.

Alex is just lying there, breathing deeply, and Greg strokes his hair, petting him aimlessly. "Good boy," Greg says softly. "My good boy, all mine."

"Thank you," Alex says, sighing.

"Did you get what you wanted?" Greg asks.

"It was lovely," Alex says, which feels like an understatement but is probably the best Alex can muster right now.

Alex still has a very derogatory word written across his forehead; it was hot at the time, but now in the afterglow, it's kind of unsettling. Greg licks his thumb and scrubs at the ink, which doesn't move. "Is this Sharpie?"

"There's hand sanitizer," Alex says.

Greg sees the bottle on the table next to the bed; he's got his hand halfway out to reach it when he pauses. "What did he do with the hand sanitizer?"

"Best not to ask," Alex says.

Greg doesn't; instead he wipes Alex's forehead clean. It seems to make Alex relax, and it makes Greg relax a little too, like he's wiping away some of the fear. "Who's Daddy's best boy?" he says, kissing it. Alex doesn't respond, just curls a little closer to him, his hand slipping inside Greg's jacket.

There are another few long moments of warm silence. "Did Rhod harm you?" Greg asks. The word choice is deliberate; Rhod can hurt him all day, with Greg's compliments, but if he does any lasting harm, then the situation is much more serious.

"No," Alex says. "Nothing worse than what we've done before."

"That's fine, then," Greg says. He nudges Alex playfully. "Bet you liked it."

Alex groans. "He's feral, and I mean that in the nicest way possible."

Greg laughs. "You're not wrong about that at all."

Greg looks up, and the mirror is still standing at the foot of the bed. He considers what he sees; Alex is a mess next to him, resting his face on Greg's suit, which is by this point sweaty as hell but looks unrumpled. Greg didn't even take his shoes off, and he looks both powerful and louche at the same time. It makes Alex look like nothing and Greg look like everything, Greg's arm around him a clear sign of possession.

But up close, Alex is breathing softly, warm and solid next to Greg's side. He's still wholly Greg's, but they're only the people in the mirror when seen from the outside. Here, holding each other, they're just some people who do some things, which is what Greg really wants to be.

He strokes Alex's hair, kissing the top of his head. Maybe they can be both, sometimes. Maybe that would be okay.


End file.
